


Look at you

by Splinter



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Come Eating, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Furiosa is the most eaten out character in fandom history, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Movie(s), smut art prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 03:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7297198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splinter/pseuds/Splinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She loves the look on his face.</p><p>Fill for the smutty_arts art prompt challenge, inspired by <a href="http://youkaiyume.tumblr.com/post/146442463573/filthy-smut-warning-a-prompt-i-drew-for-a-smut">this NSFW art</a> by the wonderful <a href="http://youkaiyume.tumblr.com/">youkaiyume</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look at you

Furiosa is in Max’s lap, arms and legs tight around him as she grinds. It’s new, having this, having him. Forty days in, they’ve made it past initial fears and bad memories, getting to the point where they’re relaxed with each other’s bodies. She can still be amazed that he’s here in her bed.

They’re both naked, his hands on her bum as she pushes against him, sliding her clit against the hot ridge of his cock. There’s a look of pleasure on his face that turns into something raw when she grinds a little harder. It stops her in her tracks.

When she kisses him, he moves as if to tip her down on the bed. She shakes her head, kisses him again. 

“I have an idea,” she explains, climbing off him. She goes to the desk for the lamp. It’s burning low, so she turns it up, as bright as she can, before moving it to the shelf by the bed. She can feel his eyes on her, on the sway of her hips and the curve of her breasts as she bends to set it down. She turns the lamp, shining it full on the bed.

He blinks but won’t let himself flinch, so trusting that she feels a tightness in her chest. Instead of getting back on top, she stretches out beside him, naked and open in the bright light. She arches her back as she settles, lifts one leg into his lap. He’s already staring, so she lifts her knee up and out, prodding his thigh with her foot.

“I want to watch you,” she says, once his eyes get up to her face. It takes a little longer than usual. “I want to see you come.”

She’s being commanding about it, but she does feel exposed. She trusts her own body, doesn’t have the defensiveness that can still hit Max, with his wasteland habits and tattooed back. Lying here, spread and bare for him, is still more vulnerable than she’d realised. She’s spent thousands of days carrying herself with an authority that could ward off lecherous glances. She’s used to tenderness and hunger from him, but inviting his gaze like this feels daring. She knows for certain that he can see that, see her nerves as well as her confidence. It’s part of why she’s doing this.

His eyes on her, he turns so that he’s half-sitting, half-kneeling between her legs. She wriggles closer, propping herself on her elbows and lifting her hips up to meet his cock. She reaches down to grasp it, slipping her hand under to run her fingertips over his balls, then draws him in to press the head of his cock against her clit.

Max gulps and puts his hand on hers, starts rubbing against her. It takes a little while to get their hips properly aligned; working out a rhythm seemed easy when this was a warmup, trickier now that she’s made it the main event. The nudge and slide isn’t as skilful as his fingers or his tongue, but she likes the heat and the weight and the thickness of it. She loves the look on his face as he watches.

She gets a little shiver as he presses between the wet lips of her pussy, pushing against her clit. His cock is flushed deeply red, twitching against her; her cunt clenches at it. 

When she looks back at his face, she finds a tension she wasn’t expecting. He’s intent, watching their bodies together, but the openness has gone. She realises that he’s holding back, trying not to come first, despite all the friction from their hands and her body. She’s very wet, but it’s going to take her longer.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” she tells him, watches him bite his lip. She pushes her hips up, grinding hard to show that she means it, increasing the pressure of her hand. His hips buck, his cock pressing against her. His look of relief is almost pained, that raw expression back on his face. “Go on. Come for me.” 

By the time he does, in long spurts over her belly, she’s forgotten to look at his cock, too caught up in watching his face. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bitten red as he pants and moans and lets go. She can’t quite reach from where she’s lying, or she’d kiss him, run her fingers through his already bedheaded hair. He’s still gripping her calf, his hand tight on hers. 

She’s about to sit up when he opens his eyes, looking at the splatter of come he’s left across her torso. It’s wet and sticky on her skin, but she finds she likes it – not so much the feel of it as the sense of being painted, the way he’s staring at himself on her.

“Look – look at you,” he says, voice hoarse. She wriggles a little under his gaze. 

“S’all over me,” she agrees, and even she can hear the purr in her voice. The look he gives her then is half wonder and half mischief.

“Can do something about that.” He pulls back to kneel between her legs, careful to keep the weight off his bad knee. Then he leans in and licks her, a broad swipe with his tongue, from her pubic bone to her ribs. Furiosa gives a shocked little squeak, because somehow she wasn’t expecting that. There’s a splash of come on the underside of her breast, and he laps it up, pausing to suck at her nipple before moving back down to her belly.

She’s gone down on him before and swallowed, he’s kissed splashes from her lips, but not with this kind of attention. Working over her, he goes from long strokes to fast, teasing licks, pausing here and there to suck or nibble. He’s always been good at reading her body, but he seems to spot her responses almost before they happen, knowing where to linger to make her murmur. Her cheeks are hot; she’s surprised by how much she enjoys it, his pleasure in licking his way down to her skin.

One stripe of come reaches across her ribs, over the place where he’d stabbed her. He licks it very carefully, before kissing her scar. She reaches for his hand, grips his fingers tightly. 

Max sits up at that, takes her hand in both of his. Keeping his eyes on her face, he kisses her hand, every knuckle and every callous, his lips on her palm and then her fingertips. Furiosa is breathing hard, watching him.

He keeps hold of her hand as he ducks his head again, kissing as well as licking her belly and her mound. With his other hand, he strokes her thigh, encouraging her to lift her legs high and open for him again. There’s no come left – most of it went higher – but he goes on kissing and cleaning her, lapping between her spread legs and slowly fucking his tongue into her cunt. She’s dripping wet and starting to squirm.

He pulls away when she moans. She’d think he was teasing her, but that look of wonder is back on his face, his eyes following the curves of her torso up to meet her gaze. His eyes are very blue, his mouth red and wet and swollen. He stares at her, lost in looking.

“Max?” Furiosa says. He starts at his name. She squeezes his hand. “Max, I want to come.” That makes him smile. He turns his head to kiss her inner thigh, his eyes still on hers, and leans back in. “Make me come,” she tells him, not sure if she’s demanding or begging.

He’s changed pace now, from thorough to greedy. He licks hard and fast at her clit, then sucks and sucks until she’s whimpering. When she comes, he licks her through it and goes back to sucking her. Their hands are still laced together, his forearm pressed firmly across her hips to keep her steady for his mouth. He keeps going until her legs are shaking with it, until she feels wrecked.

When he stops, she scrambles down to kiss him, panting and licking at his wet chin. He scoops her into his lap, cuddling her close as they kiss. She can taste herself in his mouth, with the saltiness of come behind it.

They’re both sticky and sweaty and rumpled. Furiosa’s throat is dry from gasping; she’s thirsty, and she needs to pee. She kisses Max again, then gets up rather carefully, her knees still wobbly. He follows her, moving the lamp back to the desk – it’s not safe by the bed, where it might get knocked over if one of them has a nightmare. He turns it down low before getting the jug and the washcloth. 

They get giggly over washing, giving each other little touches and strokes. Max puts out the lamp before getting back into bed. She tucks the blanket around him, so they’re curled up together in the dark. He snuggles closer, sleepy and soft.

“I like looking at you,” he says, voice gruff. She lifts her hand to his face, tilting his head so she can kiss him. 

“How about being looked at?” There’s a pause before he answers. She thinks his cheek grows warmer, under her fingers. She kisses him again. A grunt, and a tiny little nod, his head moving against her hand in the darkness. “Good,” she says, quiet and low in his ear. “I like that, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at [lurkinghistoric](http://lurkinghistoric.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


End file.
